


Marks

by ghostchibi



Series: Arcverse [7]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Agender Character, Biting, Bruises, Other, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:33:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5735140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostchibi/pseuds/ghostchibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danse catches Arc admiring the hickeys from last night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marks

**Author's Note:**

> This one is short and I'm not sure what I was going for with this.

It's barely light out when Danse awakens, one eye cracking open as the sunlight starts to peek in through the blinds. He's lying on his side, facing Arc, or at least where Arc had been when they'd fallen asleep last night.

Danse glances across the room, suddenly very concerned. He sees a figure standing in front of the dresser, and in the dim lighting he can make out black, wavy hair.

Arc runs their hand through it once, wiggling their fingers at a tangle to separate the strands. Their attention is drawn to that too much to notice Danse slowly sitting up in bed. Danse takes advantage of that to watch.

There are bruises scattered across Arc's shoulders and neck, and several concentrated on the area between their shoulderblades. Danse can't help but smile. He knows exactly where those came from; Arc face-down on the sheets, gasping into a pillow to stifle their moans as his teeth scraped across sweaty skin. They were still red when the two of them fell asleep, and Danse had pressed gentle kisses to every single one as if that would keep them from showing the next morning.

Arc doesn't seem to mind, though. In fact, it seems rather the opposite.

Fingers disentangled from wavy hair trail lower as they turn their shoulder toward the mirror to inspect the bruising there. They sweep the hair away from their shoulder, tilting their head to the side to pin it down with their cheek. The bruises climbing up Arc's neck are much more prominent now. Arc's fingertips trace around the marks, an unreadable expression on their face.

And then Arc presses down, inhaling slowly and eyes closing at the pain, and yet there's a smile on their face.

"Was I too rough?"

Arc doesn't even flinch at the sound of Danse's voice, eyes flying open being the only indication of their shock. Danse knows Arc well enough now to know that their reactions to being startled are always quiet, almost calm, save for the tell-tale reaction of their eyes.

"Of course not," Arc responds softly, still staring at the mirror. Their fingers relax, then trail down to their collarbone to circle around more hickeys. And then lower still, fingertips drumming against their sternum right between their breasts. Danse remembers leaving a bite there too, but apparently it hadn't left a mark.

Arc is _pouting_.

"Are you admiring them?" Danse asks, suppressing a chuckle.

"Oh hush."

Arc looks beautiful like this. Not necessarily because of the bruises, although the way Arc is openly admiring the marks across their skin makes Danse's heart do a flip. But standing naked in front of the dresser mirror, with the sun beyond the blinds leaving stripes of light across their body, simply still... something about it is beautiful. Danse's isn't sure exactly what, or why it is that makes it so.

He wants to kiss Arc though, that's for certain. And so he rolls out of bed slowly, feet making muffled scuffs against the ruined carpet as he approaches, and wraps his arms around Arc's waist from behind.

"I love you," he murmurs, lips gently brushing against their shoulder. He's mindful of the tenderness of the marks there. His arms, though, are free to hold Arc as tightly against him as he wants; he doesn't have it in himself to be rough in any other way, beyond biting. And that's only because Arc enjoys it.

(Danse thinks of the helpless little noises that Arc made, and how their hands gripped him just a little bit tighter.)

"I love you too."

It comes out almost like a sigh, Arc's hand reaching up to cradle Danse's cheek. Arc watches their reflection in the mirror for a moment before their eyes close, and the two of them stand there together, simply enjoying the quiet of the morning.

Later, when they're finally dressed and ready to go, Arc takes one more look at the bruises on their neck. Their red kerchief is in hand, folded into a strip to hold back hair from their eyes, but Arc seems to be pondering something. The collar of their shirt isn't enough to hide the marks there, and Danse feels slightly apologetic for it.

Arc catches Danse's eye in the mirror, and chuckles. They unfurl the kerchief, fold it over once, then tie it around their neck instead.

"I'll have to invest in a scarf," they say, turning to take Danse's hand and press a kiss to it. "Since you indulge me so much."

Danse feels his entire face and neck go red.

* * *

"So what was that about needing to invest in a scarf?"

"No low-cut tops either," Arc chuckles, cradling Danse's head as he bites against their sternum. They moan softly, eyes closing, and Danse licks a stripe between their breasts once he's certain that there's going to be a mark there in the morning.

"You seemed a little upset that it didn't show the last time."

"Oh hush."

Danse pushes himself up on his elbows to grin at Arc, and Arc's blush goes all the way to their ears.


End file.
